


Butterfly Kiss

by Fictionista654



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, Femslash, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 06:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionista654/pseuds/Fictionista654
Summary: Hunter Claire Novak's seen it all. Angels, demons, vamps--all sorts of monsters have died at the end of her knife. When Claire picks up a troubled hitchhiker, she worries she's made a mistake. Monsters, she can deal with. Deep Meaningful Conversations? Not so much. But sometimes a broken piece needs another broken piece in order to become whole.





	Butterfly Kiss

Claire flies down the highway in her hot-pink Chevy, doing 80 in an 60, and the wind whips her long blond hair. She’s got Little Mix on, loud enough to burst every eardrum in the state, and she’s feeling the music in the core of her soul, and the cooler strapped to the truck bed has the head of one very dead vamp, and life is—

She turns the music down and squints and, yeah, that’s a girl, all right, nervous, thin-boned, head of curls. “Hey,” Claire calls. “You need a ride?” The girl hesitates, but it’s hot out there, and there’s nothing but cornfields for miles. 

“Sure,” she says at last, so Claire leans to the side and pops the passenger door. “Thanks.” Up close, her cheeks are narrow and freckled and her lips are all bitten up.

Claire pulls off the shoulder and back onto the highway. “I’m Claire,” she says, remembering her manners.

The girl pulls the string of her hoodie out of her mouth. “Kaia.” 

“Well, Kaia,” says Claire, “you know where you’re headed?” Kaia shrugs, pops open the glove compartment. In Claire’s periferal, Kaia stiffens. “Guess you found the gun.”

“Guess so,” says Kaia, staring at it. Claire half smiles.

“You never see a gun before or something?” 

“This isn’t an ordinary gun,” Kaia says, like a reprimand. “Those are Enochian sigils. You’re a hunter.”

Claire whistles. “You’re smart, roadside-girl. You a hunter too?”

“Nah,” says Kaya, carefully nonchelant, peering at her face in the pull-down mirror. “I’m a monster.” 

“Shit,” says Claire, because what was she thinking, letting this girl into her car without a silver test? “I suggest we pull over before we duke it out. Don’t want any innocents getting hurt in the crossfire.” 

“No!” Kaia snaps. “Not that kind of monster. Jesus, girl, are you always this grim? I’m a Dreamwalker.” 

Claire tries to remember what she knows about them. “You go to other worlds in your sleep?”

“Something like that.” Kaia produces a stick of half-melted gum from her jean pocket, offers it to Claire, who respectfully declines. Kaia shrugs like it’s Claire’s loss, and pops the stale thing into her mouth. Her hoodie sleeve slips back and Claire can see the end of a thicknred scar.

Claire tries to keep her voice neutral. “Monster or self-inflicted?”

“That one happens to be monster,” says Kaia, and Claire says, “Why are us hunters so messed up?” Kaia laughs. 

“I’m not a hunter,” she reminds Claire.

“Right,” says Claire. “Hey, you got any tips for nightmares, Dreamwalker?”

“Dreamwalkers don’t actually walk through dreams,” says Kaia, just enough _duh_ in her voice to make Claire blush beneath her makeup.

“I knew that,” says Claire. “Just making conversation.” Kaia pushes her seat back and stretches out her legs. 

“I get them too,” she says, long enough later that Claire has to think back to remember what Kaia’s talking about.

“Nightmares?”

Kaia picks at the hole in her jeans. “Yeah. I mean, not really. When I’m asleep, I’m seeing real places, real universes. Most of them are shitshows. Having superpowers isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I had superpowers once,” says Claire. “Got rid of ‘em fast as I could.”

“That bad?” says Kaia, and Claire shudders, remembering the terrible, nauseating wrongness of transforming into something else.

“That bad.” The orange afternoon light soaks Kaia and Claire through the windows, and Claire says, “Dinner time.”

***

They stop at a middle-of-America diner, the kind of diner that’s in every rom-com, red booths, red tables, red menus. Kaia gets a giant plate of Belgian waffles covered in whipped cream and chocolate and strawberries. Claire’s good with a cheeseburger.

“No way you finish that,” says Claire. 

“Wanna bet?” says Kaia, and Claire’s lips quirk up.

“What’ll I get when I win?” she says.

“You’re gonna lose anyway,” says Kaia. “So bet whatever you want.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” says Cassie, and Kaia’s eyes flick up. “I bet my story for yours.”

“My story?” Kaia says, playing dumb. 

“We all got one,” says Claire. “Everyone in this diner’s got a reason they’re here. Everyone on the road, too.” Kaia grimaces and loads her fork with as much waffle as possible. As it turns out, Kaia has nothing to worry about, because she wins the bet.

“Didn’t think it would come to this,” Claire admits when they’re back on the road. “Don’t even know where to start, to be honest.”

“Wherever you want,” says Kaia, inspecting an old cassette tape. 

Claire sighs and taps the wheel with a finger. “When I was a little girl, an angel stole my daddy’s body. Wracked up mileage like you wouldn’t believe. Dad said it was like being strapped to a comet. Angel said he’d bring my dad back alive. Brought back a burned husk instead.”

“What did you do?” says Kaia, her voice hushed. Been a long time since a dead dad made Claire hush; stories like these are a dime a dozen in the hunters’ world.

“I hunted that bastard down,” Claire says grimly. “Got him right where I wanted him. Shotgun aimed at his heart.”

“And then?”

“I let him go.”

“What?” says Kaia, sitting up straight. “But he killed your dad!”

“Yeah,” says Claire. “Mercy’s gotta start somewhere, right? What about you? Got anyone on your hit list?” Kaia looks away. 

“I didn’t lose the bet,” she says. “I don’t have to tell my story. But, uh. Yeah. Got a couple of guys on my list. Some guys who kidnapped me.”

“You got kidnapped?” says Claire. “Holy shit.”

“Stupid magic shit,” says Kaia, slumping a little. “Guys knew my cousin, wanted to use his abilities to find their missing mom, cousin got jumped, guys come to me. Kidnapped me in a parking lot.”

“No way.”

“Yeah way. And we’re talking grown-ass men. 40 years old. Pulled a gun and everything.” 

“No way,” Claire says again. “How’d you get away?”

“Didn’t,” says Kaia. “Helped them out, and then almost died when a bug-monster speared me.”

“They pay you?”

“Not a cent.”

“Jeeesus.” Claire shakes her head. “You know where they are now?”

“Sort of. Asked around a little. Apparently they’re pretty well known for not giving a shit about collateral damage. They’ll stab a demon’s host body and not care if the host makes it.” 

“I know hunters who’ve gone down that road. Extinguished life after life.” Claire’s finger tighten imperceptibly around the wheel. She’s aware that Kaia is watching her, and it makes her neck prickle. “You wanna turn in for the night?”

“Sleep in the car?”

“No, dummy. See that sign? Motel in five miles. We’re gonna live like queens.”

***

It turns out to be an okay motel room. Clean, which is the most you can ask for, really. And the beds are soft. Claire knows she shouldn’t trust Kaia this fast, but damn, she needs a shower, so she parks her stuff on the floor by her bed and stomps to the bathroom. The water’s nice and hot, and she’s finally able to wash away the grime from this morning’s vamp hunt. 

When Claire gets out of the bathroom, Kaia’s flipping through channels. “Don’t have a TV at home,” she says. 

“And where’s that?” says Claire, tightening her towel before leaning over to go through her stuff. “You got parents? Siblings?”

“Ha,” says Kaia. “I wish. It was me and my cousin, and now it’s me. Running from monsters. Being a monster.”

“You’re not actually a monster, you know.” Claire slips on some blue underwear beneath the cover of her towel. Is it her imagination, or is Kaia looking at her funny? “Dreamwalkers are human.” 

“Whatever. Sounds cool to say.” Kaia stretches, and her flannel slips up, revealing a thing slice of flat stomach. Where Claire has curves, Kaia has planes. “My turn to shower.”

***

That night the motel fan stirs up dust and Claire lies with her eyes open. On the other bed, Kaia’s curled beneath the blankets, and Claire matches her breaths to Kaia’s. Breathe in roots, breathe out flowers. At last, she’s drifting down through the branches into sleep when a bird grabs hold of her shirt and yanks her up through the scratching twigs. 

It’s Kaia, Claire realizes, screaming and swinging her fists at nothing. “Shh,” says Claire, climbing from her bed to Kaia’s. “I’m here, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get you, I promise.” Claire gathers her in her arms.

Kaia’s so small and warm, and Claire can feel every rib, every vertebra, when she strokes Kaia’s back. “I got you,” Claire says again. “I know it hurts. I know.”

“Every night,” Kaia sobs, her breath hot on Claire’s neck, “every night I see the wastelands of the universe. Monsters with their skin on inside-out. Little girls with stones for eyes. Don’t leave, Claire. Please don’t leave.” She cries into Claire’s shoulder, and the tears run down Claire’s arm like blood.

“I won’t,” says Claire, and rests her cheek against Kaia’s head.

***

“Can I have a puff?”

Claire lowers her cig and squints at Kaia, who’s backlit by the sun. “It’s a nasty habit,” she says, but hands it over anyway. 

Kaia leans back, one foot up against the motel’s brick wall, and brings the cig to her mouth. Claire can see the contentment run down Kaia’s body, starting at her scalp. They smoke in silence for a few minutes, pass the cig back and forth and look at the parking lot.

“Got some shit cars here,” Claire remarks, at the same time Kaia says, “You weren’t in bed when I woke up.” They laugh, awkwardly, and Claire flicks another cig out of the pack and lights it on the dying embers of the old one.

“Wanted a smoke,” says Claire. 

Kaia rubs her arms like she’s cold. “Sorry about last night.”

“We all been there, right?” Claire holds the cigarette out in front of her and watches the smoke flurry in the breeze. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously,” she says, catching Kaia’s eye. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I haven’t been doing this long,” says Kaia. “I mean, I’ve been dreamwalking my whole life. But until last month, I basically had a normal life. And then my cousin died and everything turned to shit. God, I miss him. He was the only other person who knew what I was going through. He was the only other person—” But her voice breaks, and she reaches for the cig. She sucks the smoke in hard and blows it out through her nose like an angry dragon.

“I been doing this a long time,” says Claire, kicking at the gravel. “I know the ropes. You want, you could stick with me.”

“I’m a mess,” Kaia warns, and Claire laughs. 

“Who isn’t?”

“I got scars all over,” says Kaia. “The monsters in my dreams…sometimes they leave marks.”

“Ghoul bite,” says Claire, pulling her jean leg up her calf. “I got battle scars, too. See?” She edges out of her leather jacket and holds out her bare arms. She doesn’t look at them often. A road map of the monsters she’s fought, the werewolves and vampires, wendigos and rugarus. Kaia’s fingers ghost over Claire’s arms, sending a shiver over Claire’s skin. 

Kaia takes a step closer, encircles Claire’s forearm with her hand and holds tight. Claire’s heartbeat flutters in her throat. “What’s this?” says Kaia, tracing a line on Claire’s forehead.

“Oh, that,” says Claire. “Heroic fight with a doorknob.” Kaia presses a kiss to the scar, so quick that Claire’s not sure she didn’t imagine it.

“I’m gonna get my stuff,” says Kaia, hand falling from Claire’s arm. “And then we hit the road?”

“Sure,” says Claire, her forehead tingling where Kaia’s lips had been. “We hit the road.”

“Just to clarify,” says Kaia, “what is it we’re doing on the road?”

“Oh, you know,” says Claire. “Saving people, hunting things.”

“Okay,” says Kaia. “I can live with that.” She gives Claire one last look over her shoulder before disappearing back into the motel room. Claire smiles and grinds her cigarette under her left heel and looks up at the blue, blue sky.


End file.
